


Me Myself, and I (and the Other Three)

by AriesAscending



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Awkwardness, Dancetale, Dimension Travel, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'll update tags as I go lol, Light Angst, Mostly comedy tho, Multi, Multiple Selves, Nicknamed Readers, Outertale is there too, POV Multiple, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader-Insert, Six skeletons scenario but in reverse, Why Did I Write This?, mafiatale, multiple readers, or at least it will be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 00:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17091014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriesAscending/pseuds/AriesAscending
Summary: You're sitting in the back of a van with two other versions of yourself and somehow this is not the strangest thing that's happened to you today. The strangest thing that's happened to you today is going to bed in your home and waking up on the streets of an unfamiliar city in the pouring rain.





	Me Myself, and I (and the Other Three)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys i have no idea what I'm doing enjoy
> 
> I'll fix it tomorrow I promise

You're really not sure how this happened. One minute you're saying your goodnights to your skeleton roommates, ready to keep over after a long day of dance lessons, and the next you're staring up at the sky as biting rain soaks through your clothes. You have to blink rapidly to keep the droplets from getting in your eyes, groaning in pain and confusion as you push yourself upright. You're freezing and completely drenched, so you must have been laying here for quite some time, and your body aches like you've been hit by a truck. A glance around you reveals that you're propped up in an alley somewhere, staring out into the bustle of city life.

You're panicking a little. Where are you? Why aren't you at home right now? You search your pockets for your phone, before you remember that you'd left it on your desk to charge. Which of course also reminds you that you're sitting in a gross alley in your soaking wet PJs in public, so you scramble up and try to keep it together. First things first is to find a phone and call Sans and Papyrus. You swear, if this is one of Sans’ pranks, you're going to dust that stupid little gremlin. 

(You ignore the voice telling you that he'd never go this far, because the alternative is scary and you Do Not want to think about it, Thank You.)

People are giving you you weird looks, occasionally sympathetic as you wrap your arms around yourself and shiver. You probably look like a homeless person trying to find somewhere dry to spend the night, wet and dirty and wearing worn clothes. You duck your head to avoid the stares and walk a little faster, only lifting your head to scan the streets around you. 

You don't recognize any of the names, and the dance studios you're used to seeing around every corner are absent. It sends another thrill of panic through you, and you have to take a moment to stop under an awning to get your breathing under control. Your nails bite into your arms and the sensation grounds you slightly, allowing you to regain your senses. You lean your head back against the cold shop window, watching a puff of mist drift from your lips.

_ I'm gonna get so sick,  _ you can't help thinking with a wry smirk as you shudder, rubbing your arms to generate friction and soothe the sting from your nails. You look down at the little divots as you continue,  _ I'm gonna get so mad and Papyrus is gonna mother me into the ground. I wonder how long it'll be before he lets me dance. _

With another groan, you push yourself off the window and turn to assess the shop you'd found refuge at. It's a little antique shop, and from here you can see that it's mostly empty, save for an old man at the counter and a young lady perusing the shelves with a clipboard. You squirm slightly, glancing down at your less-than-stellar appearance morosely before you square your shoulders. You don't really have a choice of looking nice right now, so you'll just have to suck it up. 

You're still trying to convince yourself not to care about your grungy appearance when a hand rests gently on your arm and an unfamiliar voice calls your name. You jerk, startled despite the lightness of the touch, and whirl around to see who's called you.

Your mind is instantly thrown into confusion as you realize that this stranger looks  _ exactly like you. _

“Uh,” they say eloquently, an awkward smile on their face that you recognize because you've seen that face, every day, for the past years of your life. Every little detail, from the shape of their mouth to the color of their eyes, is exactly the same. The only difference is that they're dressed much more appropriately for the weather, wearing a long, thick black coat with a fluffy hood and white pockets. The hood is pulled up, obscuring your view of their hair, but somehow you know it'll look just like yours. “Hi. Um, I know this is kinda awkward, and probably a little freaky, but I promise that there's a really good explanation for all this and I can give you all the details later, but for now I think you should come with me. I've got some blankets in the car.”

You wonder when your life became a sci-fi movie and continue to stare at them, trying to make sense of what is in front of you. Your eyes roll over them several times, looking for any sign that they're not actually you, some sign that this is maybe a trick or a prank, but you find nothing. Just the open, honest smile on their face and hand on your arm. “Uh,” you say, in a perfect mirror of their earlier articulation, and despite the circumstances you can’t help smiling a little- either of you. “Yeah, uh, okay. This is… this is really weird but I guess I trust you? I mean, if you can’t trust yourself then who  _ can  _ you trust, right?”

It’s a weak attempt at a joke and you both know it, but you-  _ they- _ pity-laugh anyways and step back, gesturing over their shoulder. “Right. Van’ back this way.”

“That’s kinda shady,” you comment idly, dazed as you traipse after them.

Their laugh is much more real this time. “You know, uh, it’s funny cuz that’s not the first time I’ve heard that today. It’s just, uh, easier for the others.”

“Others?” you echo, curiosity and dread warring in you. Are there  _ more  _ versions of you? Has someone cloned you? How many other “you”s are out there?

“Yeah. Uh, fair warning, some of them are… kinda intense.” They cringe when you give them a bewildered look. “They’re really not that bad, I swear, they’ve just… Well, some of them didn’t have the… greatest upbringing? Ugh, you’ll see what I mean. You just gotta be patient with them.”

Right. That’s not ominous at all. Are you really this bad at comforting other people? You gotta work on that. 

You shudder and rub your arms, eyeing the van you’re being brought towards warily. What kind of people are inside? “A little intense” they’d said. Are they criminals? Is this a gang thing? Or a cult? Okay, you’re being ridiculous and you know it, but you can’t stop. None of this is making sense and you’re stressed and cold and wet and tired and. 

And you just want to be home.

The other you gives you one last look before they pull the door open and gesture you over. You slink to their side slowly, bracing yourself for what you might see inside.

You’re still not prepared. There are  _ two other yous.  _ The looks they give you vary, from harsh to curious, and you can’t breathe. What the heck.  _ What the actual heck?  _ There are four other people  _ who look just like you what is this- _

“Uh. Are you okay?” The first Other You asks softly, resting a hand on your shoulder.

_ No,  _ you think, distantly, but what comes out is, “Uh.”

“Nice going, idiot,” Another You mutters drily, crossing their arms. They look like they could break you with their pinky, their arms scarred and thick. Their dark jacket and black jeans- ripped at the knees, you notice- only reinforces this impression. “You broke them.”

“I’m pretty sure  _ Cricket’s  _ not the one who broke our guest, Locust,” Some Other You comments, smiling benignly at Locust(???). Then they look up at you, smile soft and understanding. You’re caught off guard by the milkiness in their eyes- or more precisely, by the way they glitter, like they’re filled with stars. It’s beautiful and unusual, but it fits their “galaxy aesthetic”, you guess. Their space hoodie if very cute, and they’re easily the most disarming of the two in front of you. “We were much the same when we first got here, weren’t we?”

Another You scoffs, crossing their arms and eyeing you critically. “Well, they’re gonna have to get used to it. They’re not exactly going home anytime soon.”

“You’re being rude,” Space You comments, still patient and quiet, but with a slight edge in their voice. 

“I’ll show you rude, you stupid spacey-” Locust starts to yell, standing so abruptly you cringe back, but Other You- Cricket? Why are they all named after insects???- interjects, stepping up into the van and throwing an arm across their chest. 

Despite looking so much weaker than Locust, they subside anyways, scowling angrily as they sink back into their seat. “Firefly, Locust, can we please stop yelling?” Cricket begs, rubbing their forehead tiredly. They gesture to you with their free hand. “You’re freaking them out. The last thing they need is-” They pause, frowning deeper. “Wait a minute. Where’s Cicada?”

Locust rolls their eyes, slumping further into their seat and jutting a thumb at the front with a sneer. “The wimp went to hide upfront. Oh, sorry, I meant “keep watch.”” They make air quotes, grinning as Firefly(????? You need explanations) sighs through their nose, clearly trying to keep their composure. 

Why is this version of you such a jerk? You don’t think you’re this mean. You  _ hope  _ you’re not this mean.

“Guys, please, you’re making a bad impression,” Cricket groans, long and slow and exhausted-sounding. “Can we just… get along for a bit?”

“Sorry, Cricket,” Firefly says instantly, sounding like they actually mean it. Locust just stares back at them, entirely done with this whole situation. 

“Okay. Great. Let’s just… go home and get this all explained. Sound good to everyone?” Cricket asks, also one hundred percent done with the situation and clearly wanting to go home and just sleep for a few hours. You can relate.

There’s a small mutter of assent, and before you know it you’re seated next to Firefly, sitting across from Locust while Cricket closes the door. The back of the van is filled with terse, awkward silence, with you very pointedly not looking at Locust as they glare holes into you like they want to set you on fire with just their eyes alone. You’re inclined to believe they can do it, if they tried hard enough. You can’t see Cricket and the Final You from up front, given the little window in the way- this van looks like something the police would use to cart around criminals, it’s so shady, where did they get this thing- but you can hear them talking quietly.

Despite everything, you find yourself drifting off. It’s been a long day and you’re exhausted.

Some part of you hopes that maybe you’ll finally wake up from this awful nightmare.

 

You’re shaken awake very gently by Cricket, who smiles apologetically when you jump at the sight of them. “Sorry, but we’re here. Figured you’d rather I wake you, as opposed to Locust.”

“Much appreciated,” you agree with another forced laugh, sitting upright. Your neck aches from the uncomfortable position you’d held it in, and the motion shifts a blanket off your shoulders. You give it a startled look, wondering when that’d gotten there. “Uh. Thanks.”

They shrug, helping you up. “No problem. Gotta look after yourself, right?”

You find the joke’s not as funny anymore. Now it’s just a weird reminder that things aren’t alright. “Yeah. Sure. So, uh, when am I gonna get some answers?” Ah, crap, that was really rude. You sounded like Locust. “Crap, I’m sorry, that was bad, I didn’t mean-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” they interrupt, waving you off with a friendly, sympathetic smile. “I get it. Not so fun not having the answers, y’know?”

You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, following them as they climb out of the van. “So… did you just wake up here too?” you risk asking, glancing at them curiously. It sounds like they’ve gone through this before. You wonder where they came from.

“Not, uh, not quite.” They scratch the back of their neck, a thoughtful look on their face. “It’ll make more sense once we get inside, I promise.”

You take their word for it and follow them down the driveway. You take a moment to analyze the house before you. It’s large and intimidatingly expensive looking, although you suppose they’d have to have a large house to hold so many people. You wonder how much they must make to afford a place like this. 

You think back to your own tiny house. It’s just big enough for two monsters and one small human, and you all make pretty good pay working as instructors for your dance classes and competing in tournaments. Well, you and Papy do; Sans pretty much just does what he always does and sells hot dogs in parks. Legal now, thankfully, with a permit and everything. He  _ has  _ been getting back into dancing, though, slowly but surely. You’re very proud of him. You’re proud of both of them…

A sharp twinge of pain goes through your chest and you clutch the fabric of your pyjamas. You… you really miss your skeletons. A lot. You hope that whatever has happened to you can be undone soon. You can’t even imagine how worried they must be about you by now… 

A gentle hand rests on your shoulder and you jump slightly, looking up at Cricket with wide eyes. They smile awkwardly. “Hey. You doin’ okay, buddy? You got a really sad look on your face all of a sudden.”

“Ah…” You hadn’t realized you’d been making a face. Whoops. “It’s fine, don’t worry. Just… thinking.” 

They study you for a moment and you realize they’ve probably seen right through you. They’re  _ you,  _ after all, they can probably tell when you’re lying. Yet, they don’t push any further, likely knowing you’d rather be left alone at the moment, and honestly that might be the best thing that’s come of this situation. Communication is easy when you don’t have to ask to know what’s going on. 

The others are waiting for you when you get inside, including the Fourth You that you haven’t seen yet. They’re standing off to the side, partially behind Firefly, peering at you timidly. They seem interested, but not enough to approach you. The sweater they’re wearing is several sizes too large and a deep burnt orange color. It looks good on them. They fidget awkwardly with the hem when they see you looking at them, offering you a crooked smile. How bizarre. 

“This is Cicada,” Firefly speaks up, lightly patting them on the head. They lean slightly into the touch, then shrink a little when they catch you eyeing them strangely. You immediately feel bad. You weren’t trying to be judgemental or anything. They just seemed… sort of weird.

Stars, who were you kidding? This whole  _ day  _ had been weird. 

Trying to give them your best reassuring smile, you give them a wave and go to offer them your name in return, but the words get stuck on your tongue. All of them already know your name, after all, why bother introducing yourself? You click your mouth shut and look away. 

The tension is killing you.

“...Well!” Cricket suddenly speaks up, false brightness in their voice as they clap loudly to draw your attention. “We’ll, uh, we’ll work out a name for you later. For now, you’re gonna get your answers.” They stroll down to the first room on the left, then turn and smile at you from over their shoulder. Gesturing with one hand, they say, “C’mere, there’s a couple people I want you to see.”

Curious and just a little worried (a lot worried, who are you fooling, certainly not yourself), you move to join them at the archway, and the relief you feel when you peer into the room is so intense you nearly collapse. Standing there are Sans and Papyrus, with Sans’ hands in his pockets while Papyrus beams at you and without thinking you’ve flown across the room and thrown yourself at Papy. He catches you easily, effortlessly, like he always has, and you cling tighter to his neck and bury your face in his… scarf?

You pause. You pull back slowly. You look your skeleton up and down. 

Has he… always had this scarf? And his clothes… A brightly colored crop top with the words ‘COOL DUDE’ written across the chest and shorts. Papys _ always _ wears loose, airy button ups and nice slacks.

You look at Sans. The hoodie is just a few shades too dark, and it’s got fluff lining the edges. Sans  _ hates  _ fluffy hoods. He always complains about how hard it is to see with them on. And basketball shorts? Sans is a lazybones  _ built  _ for comfort. You’ve never seen him in anything but sweats. You’re pretty sure he’s never owned a pair or basketball shorts in his life. 

Heart pounding, soul sinking in your chest, you step back slowly, looking between the two of them. They’re both watching you with matching looks of awkward pity and discomfort, though Papyrus is trying his hardest to look upbeat for you, and Sans’ grin is stretched just a bit too wide to be real. 

Right. Of course. Of course they wouldn’t be your Sans and Papyrus. There were already five other versions of you running around, why did you… How could you possibly think…

“Human?” Papyrus inquires, slowly, quietly, reaching out towards you, and  _ stars,  _ you want to leap right back into his arms and will  _ your  _ Papyrus into existence and dance with him and feel his soul beat next to yours…

“Uh… Heh… You doin’ okay, kiddo? You’re, uh, not lookin’ so hot there,” Sans pipes up, shuffling closer, clearly worried, and for some reason that just hurts  _ more.  _ He doesn’t recognize you, but he’s still reaching out, still trying to help you, you’ll never get over how kind monsters can be…

A hand rests on your back suddenly and you know without turning around that it’s Cricket and that’s  _ too much. It’s all too much. You can’t handle it. You can’t do this.  _

You jerk away from them and whirl around, shoving past them, shoving past the other you’s, running without any idea of where you’re going or what you’re doing, you just need to go, you need to leave, you can't take this anymore! You're so confused and frightened and nothing makes sense and your chest hurts and your thoughts are blurring together and running in circles,  _ how did I get here, how do I get back, I wanna go back I wanna go home I wanna see my skeletons  _ **_how do I go h o m e?_ **

You crash through a forest gracelessly. You don't remember there being any forests out here, unless you've somehow made it all the way to Ebott. Sans had taken you a few times and you'd gone with Paps for competitions and holidays, but you'd never been there on your own. It was too far to just walk, and this only further cemented just how  _ lost  _ you were. 

You run until you physically can't anymore. You run until your legs buckle beneath you and you fall, hands out to brace yourself. Twigs and rocks and dirt dig into your palms, and while you don't think you've cut them, they sting like crazy. Your chest burns and every breath feels like a stab in the chest, your heart beating so hard it hurts, so you curl up and clutch your hands to your chest and wait for the pain to pass. Nausea makes your stomach roll and for a moment you worry you're going to have to add sickness to the list of things wrong with you at the moment. Shaking your head to dispel the thoughts, you take several deep breaths in through your nose and exhale them through your mouth, the way you were taught to do if you were panicking or exercising heavily. 

Finally, after what seems like hours, you can breathe again without wincing and wheezing. You straighten up and carefully brush your tender hands free of grime, observing them cautiously. As you'd suspected, they burned and were a little sore and red, but not bleeding. They were shaking badly however, likely from a mixture of your nerves and the long run. You spent several more moments just staring at them, thinking about how there were four other individuals with these exact same palms. 

That tightness was welling up in your chest again, so you force yourself to look away and observe your surroundings. As expected, you'd wound up in a clearing somewhere in the forest, with a peaceful blue pond sitting in the middle of it. It was dotted with water lilies and algae, and even from here you could see fish swimming. It was incredibly tranquil out here, and already you felt a little better.

Sighing, you climb steadily to your feet, still shaking somewhat. You brush your hands off again, taking a few steps until you come up to the bank of the pond. You kneel down at the edge, staring into the blue-green depths. Tentatively, you reach out and lightly run your hands through the water, watching the little ripples eddie away from you. It's cool to the touch but not cold, and you spend a little while just playing with it, dragging your fingertips over the surface. 

Watching the waves set a familiar desire in your heart, one you simply could not ignore. Shaking the water off your hands, you rose to your feet slowly, taking time to stretch, to feel every muscle and bone in your body. You felt like a flower unfurling its leaves to the sun, the shining light of your soul reaching through you, filling up your being with warmth and music. 

Before you met the monsters, you'd never been as in tune with your soul. Now, though, you wondered how you had ever missed it. It was always there, just like your heartbeat- and just like your heartbeat, you couldn't feel it until you were paying attention. 

And right now it was quiet and sorrowful. It was missing something. Two obvious notes that were necessary to make the song complete. It wanted to find them, and it did the only thing it knew how to: it sang as loud as it could and you began to dance, throwing yourself into the motions, letting the magic pour through you. You hoped that if you danced hard enough, if you channelled enough magic, maybe you could reach Sans and Papyrus. 

_ But nobody came. _

 

You couldn't dance for long. You were still exhausted from everything that'd happened and your run earlier. Sunrise finds you sitting on the bank, knees up to your chest and arms wrapped around them, your face buried in your legs. You want to sleep so badly, but taking a nap in the middle of the forest in your pyjamas sounds like a bad idea.

Running into the forest in your pyjamas was probably not so smart either, but you digress. 

You're just starting to wonder how on earth you'll get back to the house- if a bear doesn't kill you first, or something- when someone suddenly sits next to you. You let out a startled shriek and jump sideways, nearly falling into the pond. You are fully convinced you're about to be killed by an axe murderer.

However, when you look up, you only find yourself staring at an equally as startled Cicada. They've curled in in themselves slightly, like they're expecting you to hit them, and you remember that Cricket had said that some of them hadn't grown up in the best places. You wonder if maybe Cicada had been abused wherever they came from. Wincing, you collect yourself and straighten out slightly, holding your hands up in surrender. “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. You just, uh… Startled me a little. You're really quiet.”

“Sorry,” they mumble, and you realize this is the first time you've actually heard their voice. You expect it to sound like yours, but it's a lot raspier and even a bit higher. Probably from disuse, if you had to guess. 

They don't say anything else. They just shift slightly, slowly, until they're mirroring your original position, arms around their legs and chin on their knees. They look so tiny in that giant sweater, and it's hard to be wary of them for long. So you arrange yourself to mimic them and stare at the pond quietly.

You sit that way for quite some time, just relaxing next to each other. You glance at them from time to time, wondering if you would be able to get answers out of them. What was going on? Where were they from? Why were Sans and Papyrus different? How had they found you?

“When 'm upset,” they say abruptly, and you startle a little at the sound of their voice. “I… come here. To think. And be alone.” They picked at the hem of their sleeve awkwardly, not looking up at you. “It's nice. Quiet and peaceful. I get… stressed and… anxious, really easily, so… so when I feel bad, I… I come here an’... Sit for a while. An’ think.” They glance at you shyly, then back down at their hands. “It's… how I found you. I just… thought you might be feeling bad and needed a place to think?” 

“You're not wrong,” you admit tiredly, softly so as not to spooky them, and press your face back into your legs. It's… kind of nice having them here? Really weird, but… nice.

They shuffle a little, leaves crackling under their weight. It's quiet again for a bit, and then they murmur, “When I first…  _ arrived…  _ I was really scared. I didn't… I couldn't find Boss, or… or Papyrus and I was s… surrounded by all these new people. I… I tried not to panic. I tried to call them, but my phone wouldn't work. And… and then Cricket and Locust showed up.”

You cringe, raising your head slightly to look at them. You can't imagine that went well for the timid human next to you. Cricket might have been there to smooth things over, but Locust… 

And yet, when you look at them, they've got the faintest hint of a smile on their face as they watch you. “Yeah. It, um, it wasn't very pretty. I… I sort of freaked out. A lot. And then… then I ran.” You… wish you could say you were surprised. “I ran straight for the forest, too, just… just like you did. And… and I found this place.” They gesture around you fondly. “Sitting here… I felt a lot better. I screamed for a bit and… and I kicked that log.” 

They point at a tree stump laying off to the side. There's a piece of bark missing. They chuckle softly when they see it. “I… I didn't even make a dent. I thought about how disappointed Boss would be, and how Papy would make some stupid joke about… about “barking up the wrong tree”, or something… and I felt better. So… now, when I'm overwhelmed and missing them, I… I will me out here, and beat up the trees, and make stupid jokes…” Their chuckle is a little more bitter now, and they look away from you, frowning. “That’s… that's probably pretty pathetic. Sorry.”

Your heart clenches and you grip your knees tighter. “It's not pathetic. Not at all. I was just thinking about how I always dance with Papy when I'm down… and how Sans’ jokes always make me laugh when I feel like I'm gonna cry, and how they always argue and bicker over the silliest of things.” You rub your legs soothingly and smile at them. “I was just dancing and thinking about… about them. And what they'd think of all this. So… so it's not pathetic at all. I think… maybe we just need to remember the good times when things are… a little weird.”

They don't respond for a while, so you go back to staring at the water. You're getting a little sore just sitting there, but you don't want to move, and you don't exactly have anywhere you could go, except for the house. Besides, Cicada is the only one who knows the way back, and you didn't want to bother them before they were ready to go back. 

“We… we should head back,” they say at that moment, and you're starting to wonder if mind reading is part of the “alternate clones” package. “The others will probably be worried… and… I'm hungry.”

Why is that statement so funny to you? You have no clue, but you're laughing anyways, and standing with them. Your body creaks as you move, stiff from everything, and you sigh exasperatedly. You'll be so sore tomorrow.

Cicada gestures for you to follow them, which you do without hesitation. As you walk, they turn slightly to look at you, and quietly offer, “If you want, whenever you're, um, feeling bad… you can come here. And… and you can talk to me. Or if you wanna be alone, I'll leave. Okay?”

You smile in return. They're actually… very sweet. And very understanding. “Okay. Thanks, Cicada.”

They nod silently and turn away, leading the way out of the forest. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Try to guess what universe each of them are from before I update the tags lol


End file.
